Never Show Your Fear
by Ashlee Pond
Summary: All Dean wanted to do was buy the cute redhead at the bar a drink. Instead, he and Sam get pulled into a hunt unlike any they've ever been on before, and they begin to realise that the world of monsters might just be a whole lot bigger - and scarier - than they'd imagined.
1. Chapter 1

**a.n. **series 5 for dw; amy, rory and the eleventh doctor will all be making appearances. i still haven't quite decided for supernatural? dean, sam and castiel will all be getting in on the action though, so look forward to that. thanks for reading, please review!

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**One.**

Dean Winchester had seen a lot of pretty girls in his time. He was, he liked to think, quite attractive to the fairer sex and he often used those big green eyes he'd been bestowed to wow the ladies he and Sam met while they were on the road. And if there was anything his past experiences in this area had taught him, it was that sometimes the hottest girls frequented the most unexpected places.

Take this place, for example. It was a small, ramshackle bar, off some highway in the middle of god knows where – Sam had told him the name of the town, but he'd been half asleep at the time and at this point they were all kind of blending in to each other anyway – and the bartender looked like he could keel over at any second as he shuffled behind the dusty bar. There weren't many other people in there, besides Dean himself. A few bikers in the corner, taking it in turns to buy rounds; A middle-aged couple eating dinner in stony silence; A small group of college-aged kids playing pool and making enough noise to cover up everyone else's lack of conversation.

And then there was her. The girl with the bright red hair and the legs that just went on and on beneath that denim mini skirt. Her chequered red shirt reminded him of Sam's wardrobe, but the leather jacket she was wearing lured him in like catnip. He'd been admiring her from across the bar for a good ten minutes now, but she hadn't even looked up at him. Her attention was completely focused on some small device in her hand – he guessed it was her phone, though he'd never seen one quite like it before.

When the bartender asked him if he'd like another drink, Dean decided it was time to make a move. He ordered a double scotch for himself and vodka sunrise for her, and took both drinks over to her as soon as they arrived.

"Hey," he said casually, kicking the stool beside her out with his heel and sitting down. The girl turned her head to look at him but didn't jump as much as he'd been expecting. "Not to be creepy or anything, but I noticed you've been sitting here for a while and haven't ordered anything yet, so I took the liberty myself."

Her eyebrows rose and she pursed her lips, glancing from the orange drink he was holding to his face and back again. "You ordered that for me?" she asked in a thick Scottish brogue that immediately piqued Dean's interest.

"Yeah, it's a vodka sunrise."

"I know what it is," she said, half defensive and half mocking. She hesitated for a moment, and Dean got the distinct feeling that she was checking him out. She eventually turned back to the screen she still had cradled in her palm and said dismissively, "Thanks, but I don't accept drinks from strangers."

That wasn't what he'd been expecting. Trying to hide his sudden discomfort, Dean put the vodka mix on the counter and downed half of his scotch in one mouthful. "Well, do you mind if I sit here with you?" he asked, trying to salvage his attempt.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, smirking slightly. Her tone was teasing when she eventually replied, "Sure, why not?"

He relaxed into his seat a little bit more, relieved that she hadn't told him to piss off completely. "I'm Dean Winchester."

"Amy Pond," she said, and Dean nearly inhaled an ice cube. That got a reaction from her – she spun around to fully face him, looking equal parts perplexed and amused. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he said, clearing his throat and taking a smaller sip to wash down his embarrassment. "Yeah, fine. I just – I knew an Amy Pond, once."

Memories flooded his mind, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to block them out.

"Another Amy Pond, huh?" she mused, drawing him back to the present. She was idly twirling the straw in the drink he'd bought her, and a strange sparkle had appeared in her eyes that Dean wasn't sure he trusted. "She didn't happen to look like me, did she?"

"Uh, no," Dean said, shaking his head. Oh, this girl had no idea just unalike she and the other Amy Pond really were.

"Oh." She went to take a sip of the drink, thought better of it, and returned the cup to its coaster. "That was probably the second worst reaction I've ever gotten when I've told someone my name,"

"What was the first?"

She smiled at that, a smug kind of smile that suggested she wasn't keen to share the secret. She let the question hang in the air before asking, "What brings you here tonight, Dean Winchester?"

Details of their current hunt filtered through his consciousness; the unexplained disappearances, the body found by the creek with only its head submerged, the hapless local police department. "Oh, I'm waiting for my brother," he told her simply. "You?"

"I'm waiting for my fiancé," she replied.

Dean's eyes widened and he felt another flush of embarrassment. God, he was having an off night. He scanned her hands and saw no ring.

"Your – Your fiancé. You're waiting for your fiancé," he repeated dumbly.

"Mhmm." She nodded and flashed him that infuriating smirk again. "Sorry."

"Sorry?" he said, immediately brushing her off and trying to save his ego. "What are you sorry for? I just came over here to give you some company, it's not like I was -"

A beep from the thing she was holding grabbed her attention, and she held a finger up in Dean's direction, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Shh!"

The screen of the phone – it had to be a phone, right, what else could it be? – lit up blue, and then an image flickered to life. Dean could see a man, holding the camera at an angle that was rather unflattering to his chin. He was in a dimly lit space, but Dean could make out a mop of dark hair above his head and a bow tie below it. Was this her fiancé?

"Amy?" the man asked, staring intently at the camera. "Amy, can you hear me?"

"Yes, Doctor, I can hear you. And _see _you, would you lift the camera up a bit?"

The man did so, tilting his screen to an angle that provided a better view of his young face. "Ah, yes, that better?" Amy nodded. "Right, well, everything's fine here if you're wondering. Have you got anything yet?"

Amy glanced at Dean, obviously wary. He tried to disguise his keen interest by taking another sip of his drink.

"No," she said, turning back to the screen. "Nothing yet."

"Okay, well I suppose that's a good thing. Keep an eye out, okay? Rory should be nearly done at the hospital -" A loud banging noise in the background distracted the man, and Dean noticed Amy tense up immediately.

Dean wondered what they could be doing at the hospital. Sam was there now too, checking the body in the morgue. It could have been a coincidence, but good hunters don't really believe in coincidences.

"Doctor," Amy said shortly, "Where are you?"

"Oh, me? I'm nowhere, I'm totally fine." Another crash suggested he was lying, and if that didn't give it away his grimace did.

Amy flared up. "Doctor, you were meant to stay with Rory -"

"Oh, sorry, Amy I'm getting a bit of interference! Don't worry about me, I've got the TARDIS and everything is going to plan!"

"You have a plan?" she asked incredulously.

"I just made it up then, and trust me, it is _brilliant!_" he replied, grinning manically.

Amy's bright red nails were clenching the edge of the bar tightly. "Doctor, I -"

"Oops, gotta go! Just wait at the bar like we discussed, I'll be there soon!"

The connection cut out and the screen went black. Dean watched Amy clench the device tightly in her palm and take a deep breath in. She closed her eyes and remained completely still for a good ten seconds. When she reopened them, Dean was staring at her.

"What was that all about?" he asked, not bothering to feign disinterest.

"Nothing," she tried to brush it off, shoving the device into the pocket of her jacket.

"I really think it was something," Dean insisted, going with his gut instinct. He subtly flipped open the lapel of his jacket, revealing the gun he was carrying inside. Amy's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. To her credit, she didn't scream. Dean kept his voice steady when he asked, "What's your friend doing at the hospital, and what was that thing?"

Apparently over her initial shock, Amy didn't seem too fussed by his subtle threat. She didn't answer his questions, merely rolling her eyes and muttering, "You Americans and your stupid guns. He's not going to like you."


	2. Chapter 2

**a.n. **thanks for your reviews/favourites/follows, i've been pleasantly surprised by the response to this story! i hope you enjoy this chapter, and please leave a review letting me know what you think.

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**Two.**

Sam Winchester hadn't expected anyone else to be in the morgue. When he'd arrived at the hospital to investigate the latest case, counterfeit FBI badge in pocket, he'd been prepared to answer a lot of questions, if need be. What he hadn't been prepared for was the nurse saying, "Oh, the other guy's already in there. He didn't say you were coming…"

Sam tried not to sound too confused, but the surprise kind of got to him. "Uh, other guy?"

"Yeah, one of those British ones. M something…"

"MI6?" Sam offered, disbelief now evident.

"Yeah, that's it!" The brunette nurse brightened, happy to have remembered. "He's already in there, and we gave him the full rundown. I guess he can bring you up to speed."

"Alright… Thanks." Sam managed a smile as he made his way past the nurse and into the morgue.

When he entered he saw that there was, indeed, another man already present. He was shorter than Sam, but then again everyone was shorter than Sam. Mousy brown hair, nose that could have been a bit smaller; pretty unremarkable really. What was remarkable was what he was wearing. Jeans and a checked green shirt, with a pair of dusty trainers visible beneath the tray he had rolled out in front of him. He didn't look anything like what Sam had expected someone from MI6 to look. When the nurse had told him he'd been expecting James Bond, not... a tourist.

"Hi," he said as he stepped through the door way, and the man started, jumping back a step.

"Uh, hello," he said, not at all authoritative.

Sam did not want to get mixed up the MI6. The last thing the Winchesters needed was to get on another government agency's most wanted list. Now that he was here, however, he didn't see how else he could play it.

"Agent Stark," he introduced himself with the fake name on this week's license.

When he shook the man's hand he was surprised by the strength of his grip.

"Should I say Agent Banner?" he joked. Sam was more worried than amused by the question – was the guy on to him? He must have noticed the tension in Sam's expression, because he hurriedly added, "I'm Rory Williams."

Sam relaxed ever so slightly. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Rory replied. He glanced down at the body they were standing over. "Although I can think of a few better circumstances to meet under."

Sam followed his gaze to the blue face of the dead man, drowned in the creek that bordered the town. It wasn't a pretty sight, but it was something that Sam was used to. He wondered if Rory was new to his job.

"So," he hedged, not wanting to push this tenuous amicability beyond its limits, "What division are you?"

"Me? Oh, I'm, uh MI6," he said. Sam noted that he kept his gaze locked firmly on the corpse's hand as he did so. He seemed to remember at the last second he was supposed to return the question, and added the afterthought, "You?"

"FBI," Sam said, his hand already half way to his pocket.

Rory glanced up at his badge but didn't really give it the consideration Sam thought an agent should. When Sam cleared his throat Rory fumbled in the pocket of his jeans. "Oh, yeah, sorry, I should probably…" He pulled out a faded leather wallet, flipping it open to reveal just what Sam had expected; MI6 authorisation.

Sam let out a low whistle. "Isn't this case a little below your radar?"

The other man looked slightly taken aback. "Uh. No, not really. Four disappearances in two months and now a fully grown man found dead in a creek? It's a bit of a weird case. You wouldn't be here otherwise, I suppose."

He had a point.

"Plus," Rory added emphatically, "He's British."

Sam noted the use of present tense, but didn't comment on it. "So you've been able to ID him?"

"Jake Humphrey," Rory said, moving around so Sam could get a better look at the guy. "35, non-smoker, moved here three years ago. Works at the bank on High Street. Lives with his wife and son. They came in to ID him before."

Rory looked frustrated, although Sam couldn't figure out why.

"Cause of death?"

"They thought it was drowning, at first, but it was actually a heart attack."

"A heart attack? So, what, he went into cardiac arrest and just happened to fall with his head in the creek?"

Rory took on a totally different air as he explained, "Probably not. It's more likely the result of him falling into the creek; a secondary effect of him drowning, if you like. If he took water into his lungs it could have triggered an attack because it was either cold enough or he was deprived of oxygen long enough to stop his heart, which would have then meant there wasn't enough blood pumping to his brain. Tests showed signs of hemolysis, though, so the most likely case is that the water in his lungs was transported into pulmonary circulation, which would have caused ventricular fibrillation. If that is what happened, he would have gone in to cardiac arrest about two minutes later."

Sam was impressed. "You remembered everything the doctor said?"

"I guess his style of delivery is rubbing off on me," Rory muttered.

"What?"

Rory's eyes widened. "Ah, yes. I mean, no. I went to med school. Before – before this."

Something was definitely wrong here, but Sam couldn't figure out what. His first thought was that Rory might be another hunter, but if that were the case he should have recognised Sam. Then again, he _was _British. Maybe the Winchester's notoriety hadn't yet made it across the pond.

He checked the body over while he debated the risk of trying to suss out Rory's real intentions.

"Anything odd on the body or at the scene?"

"Uh…" Rory paused, and Sam could tell he was having an internal debate as well. "Nope. Nothing weird at all."

"No… substances, or smells?" Sam pressed.

"No, nothing at all out of the ordinary," Rory insisted. "Well, I mean, except for Jake."

"Really?" Sam tilted the corpse's head to the side, pointing to a small patch of something sparkly and silver behind his ear, stuck to the short strands of hair there.

Rory suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable. "Well, _that _is interesting, isn't it? I'll just have to get a sample of that and -" He was cut off by the sound of a phone ringing. It was the tune of the Macarena. "Uh, could you hang on for just a moment? Thanks. Hello?"

Even though he was on the other side of the table and Rory had turned his back on him, Sam could clearly hear the accented female voice from the other end of the line; she did not sound happy.

"Rory! Rory, you need to get out of there. Some nut job's taken me hostage -"

Of course that piqued Sam's interest. He wondered if this girl was Rory's partner, if they were a team of hunters like him and Dean. He leant closer, trying to hear more of the conversation.

Rory was obviously panicked. "Amy! Amy, what do you mean? Are you alright? Where are you?"

"I'm _fine, _he's just locked me in some stupid motel room. Thinks he's tough with his gun -"

"He has a gun?!"

The distress in Rory's voice made Sam begin to doubt his expat-hunter theory.

Amy's words came thick and fast, so heavily accented at certain points that Sam had trouble understanding. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. It's _you _that's in trouble. He says he's got a brother who's gone to the hospital to look at the body – I think they're involved with the drowning, somehow. You need to get out of there before he finds you."

"Where are you, where's the Doctor?"

"I don't know where the Doctor is, he called me before but he -" There was a scuffle on the other end of the line, and then Sam heard Amy call from a distance, "Give that back!"

"Amy?!" Rory almost yelled into the phone. "Amy, I'm coming for you, I'll find you, I promise!"

"You listen up you son of a bitch," a deep voice spoke down the line, and Sam immediately recognised it. His stomach sank as Dean growled, "I don't know why you're here, or what you have to do with these disappearances, but -"

"What have you done with Amy?" Rory spoke over the top of him, and Sam was surprised by the force behind the words. "If you hurt her, I swear to god -"

"Dean!" Sam cut in, snatching the phone straight from Rory's hand. The other man spun around, bewildered, but by then Sam had taken two steps and was out of his reach. "Dean, it's me."

"Sammy! You're with that guy? Listen, don't trust him. I caught his girlfriend -"

"_Fiancée__!" _He heard Amy shout in the background.

"- and they're definitely involved in this. She's got some weird phone thing and dude, she _bit me _when I brought her back to the motel room."

"Isn't that something you normally enjoy?" Sam couldn't resist the opportunity.

"Oh, ha, ha," Dean said humourlessly. "Just get her boyfriend and bring him back here. I think they're trouble."

"Ah, I'm her _fiancé__,_" Rory said from where he now stood, practically between Sam's feet, "And _you're _the one who's taken someone hostage, how are _we _trouble?"

Sam gave him an almost apologetic look. He knew that Rory wasn't with MI6, but he didn't seem like a cold blooded killer. Sam generally trusted his instincts with these type of things, and he wasn't getting any dangerous vibes from Rory – strange, yes, but not dangerous.

Amy was still yelling in the background, "Don't you dare hurt Rory, don't you even touch him. You'll regret it!"

"Just do it, Sam," Dean snapped.

The line went dead.

Rory snatched his phone back and glared up at Sam. "You're not from the FBI, are you?"

"And you're not from MI6."

"No, but your brother has Amy, and if you don't take me to her right now I can promise you you'll regret it."

Something in Rory's eyes made Sam believe him. He looked like Dean, whenever Sam was in trouble. He looked like he'd do anything to make sure Amy was okay.

"Well, Dean wants you there anyway," Sam said, deciding that it'd be better to stay civil and let Rory come willingly.

"Oh, he's not going to once I get there," Rory threatened, storming out the door without checking that Sam was following.

He watched him go, pondering what exactly he planned to do once they got to the motel room. He didn't look like much, at first glance, but Sam actually found himself a bit worried about what was going to happen now that Dean had put them in Rory Williams's line of fire.


End file.
